The (Stupid Perfect) Applications of Pasta Sauce In War
by Mikki Kimani
Summary: When Germany finally dies of sexual frustration, he's going to blame it on Italy's pasta obsession Not nearly as interesting as this summary makes it sound


**A/N: Hetalia is my new obsession and I can't stop myself from writing porn about these two dorks**

**Obligatory disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia and/or made any money from my crappy fics, would I really be eating cereal for dinner?**

Italy was trying to kill him

There was no other explanation for it. Why else would he waltz around shirtless when he knew the sight of his smooth tanned skin made Germany salivate, and the dark trail of hair leading to his pants made him ache to taste and his absolute lack of respect for personal space made it s_o very tempting_ to just lean in and kiss the smirk off those pink plump lips , those lips that could be wrapped around his cock instead of talking about pasta…..

This was why he couldn't be around Italy any more

He was trying to win a war here. How could he do that if every single thought he had eventually ended up with him picturing bending Italy over the table in the conference room and taking him apart with his tongue and his teeth and finally tasting that honeyed skin and mapping the constellation of his moles until Italy was a whimpering moaning mess and then finally he'd thrust in hard watching his cock disappear into….

Godfuckingdammit this was exactly what he was talking about.

So he made up his mind. He was going to be tough, he was going to rise above his idiotic crush on Italy and ask him to leave even though the thought of it made his heart clench. He'd have to be cruel and merciless and get it over with as soon as possible so he could go and cry into his latest batch of wurst (that he absolutely did not spend months perfecting after Italy told him they tasted like shit) Just like ripping of a band aid. He could do this. He was tough and could bench press 200 and managed not to push Italy against the wall and just fuck him when he had to teach him how to shoot even though he could still feel the press of his hot back against his chest, the curve of his ass against his straining dick, his intoxicating scent and how it made him just want to take….

This had to stop

...

"Italy? Can I come in?" he asked, knocking on his door later that evening

"Sure!" answered Italy enthusiastically.

Germany had to stifle a groan as he walked in and caught sight of Italy in nothing but a tiny towel that hid nothing and only emphasized the rich tan of his skin against the crisp white cotton. Entranced, he watched as a water droplet languidly rolled its way down his neck, passing through the delicious bow of his collarbones and sliding torturously slowly down his chest, just past his nipple and how he wanted to lick and lave that nipple until it was red and peaked and then he'd kiss him hard and desperate until Italy's lips were flushed and spit-slicked and kiss swollen and maybe then he would follow that lucky droplet's path down that that taut abdomen and finally lick his way down to his bulging….

Germany was knocked abruptly out of his delicious fantasies by the sound of Italy clearing his throat. "I thought maybe after training tomorrow we could go for a picnic on the beach? It's just that you've been very stressed lately and I could make you pasta and we could play chess and maybe Japan can come along if he's not too busy…"

"You have to leave" Germany interrupted

He'd never hated himself more as he saw Italy's look of absolute hurt, at how his bottom lip begun to tremble and telltale tears filled his eyes

"Please Germany, I'll be better, I promise, I'll exercise every day, I'll stand up to England, I'll try invading Egypt again just please don't send me away, I'm sorry for whatever I did just please…"

"I can't let you stay here, you're a burden, I always have to keep saving you, you're a liability and Japan and I would be better off without you" Germany said with as hard a voice as he could muster

The tears finally spilled from Italy's eyes as he stepped closer to Germany, placing a hand on his chest beseechingly. Germany took a deep breath, steeling himself, he had to be tough, he could do this but god, Italy was close enough that he could see how the tears had clumped his eyelashes and smell the heady scent of his body wash and it was so mouthwateringly good it was all he could do not to whimper

"Don't send me away, please" Italy begged, "please, you're my only friend Germany, I'll change, I promise, I'll work harder, I'll never eat pasta again, I'll do whatever you say, I'll be better just please.."

"There's nothing wrong with you, you're perfect!" Germany exploded, the truth finally whooshing out of him "I'm the problem, I'm in love with you and your stupid perfect hair and your stupid perfect pasta obsession and I think about kissing you all the time and you make it so hard to concentrate and ugh, I want to lick you in inappropriate places and make you happy and would you just please, for the love of god, put some freaking clothes on?!" "What" Italy finally managed to say after a few seconds of stunned silence

"What do you mean what?" Germany shouted "I just told you I'm in love with you and that's your fucking reaction...oh Gott im Himmel I just told you I love you, this is not how this conversation was meant to go…" Germany's voice trailed off in embarrassed silence as he stared, mortified, at the ground, desperately wishing for the earth to just swallow him and put an end to his misery "

You're in love with me?" Italy asked gleefully

"Yeah…I guess" he said, directing his words to the floor. Why did he have to go and mess things up, this is why his mother told him he would do well as a butcher, he should just stay away from people and buy a cabin in the Alps and live there with his stupid humiliating crush and maybe a cat and maybe a mountain goat…

"Good thing I love you too then" Italy said

Wait…what…

"Wait…what?" his mouth repeated

Italy was grinning at him; his (stupid perfect) eyes alight with mischief

"I said, it's a good thing I'm in love with you too. Also you're going to describe to me in great detail which inappropriate place on my body you'd like to lick and then we're going to have filthy mindblowingly amazing sex.

"Wait…what?" was apparently all his stunned mind could think of

And then he couldn't even remember those two words as Italy yanked his head down into the hottest wettest kiss he'd ever participated in

"Nghh" he said articulately

"Better save your words for later" Italy quipped, trailing a line of open mouthed kisses down his neck that made him weak at the knees

"Okay" he managed to gasp out as Italy nibbled and sucked on the skin below his ear.

"I'm going downstairs to get the pasta sauce" he said, unbuckling Germany's belt, a feat made a thousand times more difficult with how Germany couldn't stop bucking his hips onto his towel covered crotch, moaning wantonly all the while "you're going to stay here and get naked and then I'm going to blow you like I've been dreaming of the last two years"

(In his defense, Germany couldn't be blamed for coming in his pants five minutes later as Italy detailed just where and how he was planning on using that pasta sauce)

**A/N: Comment? Criticism? Just wanna say hi? I'm on tumblr! Come flail with me**

**By the way, I'm on break for the next five months and would love to beta, pm if you're interested? Please? All I do is read fanfic all day, I would love something productive to actually come out of it**


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